A Different Kind of Warmth
by vicky271
Summary: Two similar one-shots inspired by the scenes when Ziva or Tony needed comfort from the other. Tiva one-shots. Written as if Ziva never left. Stories about warmth when it is needed most.


**A DIFFERENT KIND OF WARMTH**

**Authors Note:** I was talking with someone and the idea for these one-shots came up. At least I think that's what happened. Either way, these short stories exist now! :P Review if you can! I may add more details, but I'm happy with it at the moment :)

**Synopsis:** Two similar one-shots inspired by the scenes when Ziva or Tony needed comfort from the other. Tiva one-shots. Written as if Ziva never left. Stories about warmth when it is needed most. **One-shot #1** - A kidnapped case goes wrong; Ziva is dealing with the after effects and she may need comforting from Tony.

**The Love of a Partner**

The cold December morning brought chills and light snow to Washington D.C. Tony fought hard to keep the warmth in his jacket, his backpack slung over his shoulder; but he could feel the cold slowly penetrating through. The snow mixed with the wind made his eyes sting, and made it harder for him to see ahead. All he wanted was to get out of this forsaken cold and into the warmth of the NCIS building. Warmth...walking in the bitter cold made it sound amazing.

Tony rushes inside, the borderline between the cold and warmth now come and gone. The door closes behind him and he smiles in victory. He could feel his numb fingers begin to warm up. Mother nature had not claimed another victim; he had gotten to work safely. Even if the snow were to pick up in intensity, Tony celebrated mentally for not dying on the way to work. It would have been tragic if something so dramatic occurred. He hadn't had enough time to draw up a will, or create a detailed plan as to how his funeral would happen. That included all the items on his desk; which of course would be burned. No one else was worthy of them.

He pushes the elevator button but it only took moments before the elevator doors open and he walked inside. Seconds later the door opens, and he steps on to his floor. Something was wrong. Though what it was did not strike Tony at first. Maybe it was because it was too quiet. Or because some of the lights were off.

He frowns, scratching the back of his neck and glancing around the room. The desks were empty. A great crowd was gathered in the bullpen. Tony approaches the crowd slowly, eyeing Ziva's desk as he passed it, which was empty. It was odd. People would rarely pay any attention to the television in the bullpen no matter how tempting it was to sneak a peek every once and a while. Yet now there was such a crowd that It was impossible to see McGee' desk from his.

"This is my desk," Tony says to an older man, leaning against it. He meets Tony's gaze, but moves quickly, relocating to the other side of the crowd.

This was getting stranger.

Tony catches a glimpse of the video on the television. An elderly woman dressed in a jacket and seated at a large, wooden desk, spoke slowly. The words she spoke made no difference to Tony, there was only one thing on his mind now.

Finding Ziva.

Tony glances through the crowd, with every head his eyes made contact with he prayed it was Ziva. Hiis eye eventually catche a familiar brown haired female staring at the television monitor, she was not in the middle of the crowd, but close. He pushes through the crowd, apologizing everytime he accidentally stepped on a toe, or pushed someone a little too much. Tony finally reached her side, "Did Gibbs throw a party?" Tony whispers in her ear.

Ziva glances at him; he could see something in her eyes. Something he had seen only a few times before. The smile on his face fades when she looks away from him and focuses back on the television. Tony does the same.

_"...the child of former Navy Lieutenant Gary Franesy, killed yesterday morning. The funeral will be at eleven o'clock-"_

The television shuts off; everyone except Tony and Ziva groan in frustration. "Back to work!" Gibbs barks, storming into the bullpen from the direction of the elevator. As soon as Gibbs speaks, the entire room grows quiet and quickly the crowd disperses. Ziva takes a seat at her desk and starts typing.

Tony looks away from her, "Gear up boss?"

"No," Gibbs grabs a large pile of folders, and slaps them on to Tony's desk, "paperwork."

"Right." If there was one thing that made Tony want to run into a corner and cry, it was paperwork. The behind the desk part of the job took forever; and it was downright boring. What was worse was that neither of his partners owed him any favors; meaning he would have to do it himself.

Tony sat down at his desk and started ruffling through the papers that were already scattered across his desk. Things like printed copies of models he had found on google, papers he had needed during the investigation, random pieces of scrap paper. He picked up the first folder and opened it, gazing upon some of the crime scene photos and other relevant pieces of information from the beginning of the case.

But Tony couldn't help but gaze at Ziva. She didn't seem to notice that he was looking at her; instead she was staring at something on her screen. He wondered what she was thinking. Times like this made it difficult to read her. It would help if she would open up a little; but he could only push her so far before she would snap his head off.

For two hours Tony found himself sifting through the folders, casually glancing at Ziva every now and then. He was sure she knew he was watching her, but didn't flinch from her own work. But then she got up and retreated to the elevator.

Now was his chance.

Tony jumped up and quickly followed his partner who was already in the elevator, slipping in before the doors closed and the elevator started descending.

But like the last few hours, he was only greeted with silence.

Tony couldn't take it anymore. The silence was haunting him, he watches Ziva from the corner of his eye, debating. Until the silence won. He punches a button on the elevator and the lights turn off. The elevator stops. Yet Tony cannot speak, he wants to. He tries to, but each time he opens his mouth, words fail to come out. They stand there in silence. He has so much he wants to ask her, to help her….comfort her. But he can't until she opens up. Tony can't push her too much, but he had to try, "Ziva…"

"I am fine, Tony." She says quickly, not meeting his gaze. He wasn't convinced of course, and if she said nothing more he would go crazy.

Seconds pass. Tony finally looks at her. He notes her facial expression, the usual...but somethings different; like earlier while the television was on. He was almost sure it was something in her eyes. Tony noticed that they spoke to him, even if they weren't gazing in his. They looked sad, almost depressed. Like something was eating away at her, "You're not Ziva," He mutters.

"I am Tony," She responds. Ziva finally looks at him, "I am fine." She pushes the button without hesitation; the lights turn on and the elevator resumes descending again. Tony watches her for a moment longer. The elevator door opens and Ziva walks out quickly in one swift movement. He doesn't move right away, not taking his eye off her even when she disappears from view.

* * *

><p>The evening came slowly; the interrogation hallway was near empty with the exception of a few people that would pass Tony every once and a while. He wasn't paying attention much, and despite having to maneuver around the random strangers that would come his way, he didn't care.<p>

Rounding the corner, Tony caught a glimpse of Gibbs standing outside of an interrogation room. He was more cross than usual, standing several inches away from the door, "Boss." Gibbs turns towards him, gesturing for him to come towards him, "what's going on?"

He points to the interrogation rooms door, "Internal affairs."

Tony's eyes widen; not this again. He flashes back to the last time Ziva was interrogated by someone outside of NCIS. It didn't end well.

"What are you doing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asks as Tony heads to the door to his left.

He looks at Gibbs, "Watching her back." Tony shuts the door behind him, walking towards the one way see through window quickly to observe the interrogation. He could see an asian male walking around the room with a cocky smile on his face, Ziva was sitting in the seat facing the window. Tony could feel some tension in the air.

"You admit to having the boy,"

Ziva nods, "I have not denied it."

"Then please, tell me what happened."

Tony watches Ziva take a deep breath, "Agent DiNozzo and I were instructed to watch over Lieutenant Franesy's son. We were taking him to my car when…" She swallows.

"When what, Agent David?"

"There was a white van with Orlando license plates parked by my car. Someone opened the door, grabbed the boy and...before we could do much damage to his van they were gone."

"So…" The man smirks, "you admit that the boy was in your custody when he was initially kidnapped," Ziva glares at the man, "...which means YOU murdered him."

Tony's eyes widened. He had just arrived and already he couldn't take much more of this. The best strategy was to stay and listen, but his mind drew a blank and his legs quickly took him out of the room.

Gibbs wasn't in the hallway anymore, and Tony was thankful. Otherwise, Gibbs would have stopped him and he didn't want to be stopped. "This is over!" Tony exclaims, barging into the interview room, "out now!"

"My interview is not over,"

"Yes it is," Tony glares at the man.

"You are interfering with my investigation. If you continue I will press charges."

Tony chuckled sarcastically, "I don't care. You are harassing Agent David. So if you press charges, so will I!"

The man holds his gaze. Tony's glare hardens.

"Fine," He grabs his suitcase and papers off the table, "but i'm not through with this investigation. I don't know how you take the death of a child in this kind of situation," The man grabs the picture of the boy and slams it onto the table in front of Ziva, "but I don't take it well."

Tony felt a sudden urge to lunge at the man and wrap his hands around his neck. He should never feel this much anger towards anyone, it overpowered his anger towards his father, his sense of reasoning. Never had he felt this way before...and yet it didn't bug him. Ziva stays seated for a couple seconds, but he was starting to get tired of pushing. Maybe it was because he wanted to help; more than just bursting into the interview and ending it so she didn't have to talk. So she could continue to bottle everything, "We need to talk Ziva," Tony hesitates before gazing at her.

"There is nothing to discuss."

"Hell there isn't," He mutters, "you can keep telling yourself that. But from I stand there damn well is." Tony knew it to be true, even if the kind of stuff he meant was more shallow, "I know you blame yourself for what happened. But it wasn't your fault."

Ziva rolls her eyes, looking away from Tony before having the courage to look him in the eye, "He was in my care; MINE, when he was kidnapped. Gibbs put me in charge of his safety. And I did not deliver," She sighs. Tony could finally hear her vent, finally she was opening up. Finally he could help.

"We all make mistakes, Ziva…"

"And do all your mistakes end the life of a child?"

"No," It was the truth, sometimes he couldn't save everyone. Goodness, they couldn't save everyone, "but you're not superman. You can't save the entire world. " Tony knew his voice wasn't as sympathetic as it should be; like the day he sat in his apartment with Ziva after her father had died. Reminding her in the harshest way possible to mourn her loss rather than obsessively chase after revenge. Let revenge control her. Destroy her. She shifts in her chair, refusing to meet Tony's gaze. He was right and she knew it, yet she was still being stubborn. Good thing he didn't back down from a fight, "I was there, Ziva. He wasn't. You did NOTHING wrong," And still she wouldn't look at him, he smiled, in a sarcastic way of course, because he wasn't happy, "I thought partners trusted each other."

That snapped her out of it. Ziva looks at him, "I do trust you."

He wanted to believe she did; goodness, he was almost certain that she did. And he knew it wasn't easy for her to properly convey her feelings into words. Or to speak from her heart. But there were times when he would wish she wouldn't close up on him. For once he didn't want to argue, he was tired and out of it, "Keep telling yourself that," He takes a few steps towards the door, not bothering to look back her when he stops at the door frame, "because we both know that's not true"

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>After a full day of paperwork, Tony was thankful when the time came to call it quits. His aching fingers were screaming at him for a break, and his behind had been numb for the last hour. Apparently it had some issues with his chair. After his...slight disagreement with Ziva, he hadn't hesitated in returning to his desk and plunging into his work. It was something to take his mind off of his anger. What bothered him were the last words he spoke to her, the part when he said that she did not trust him. In truth, he was on the fence. On one side, he knew that she did trust him...but on the other, he believed that she didn't. It was like a halfway trust.<p>

His partners chair was not empty long. Shortly after he returned from their argument she had followed his lead. Since then she hadn't moved from her spot. Tony couldn't look at her. But out of the corner of his eye, he noted that she wouldn't look at him either. But now it was over. He could forget about this until tomorrow.

Tony pushes himself up out of his chair, reaching for his coat behind him, but as his pulls his coat close, something fell off his desk. On the floor was a pile of folders, and one he had not noticed before caught his attention. Unlike the others that were pale under the light, it was a dark orange. He looks around. Maybe the person who had left it there was still around. No one out of the ordinary was standing around or retreating. Or at least no one different...sure there were still odd people around the office. He bends over, grabbing the folder.

"What is it Tony?" Tony looks at the owner of the voice, McGee.

Tony shrugs, "I don't know. Some folder," He opens to reveal its contents. There were several pieces of paper, one was a photo. The face was familiar, "Well, what do you know…" He smirks, "Mr. Internal Affairs...is a phony." Tony flips the photo so McGee can see it clearly.

"Wait, who?"

Tony ignores McGee's inquiry and flips through the documents. Pictures of the crime scene, and something catches him off guard. A picture of a small room with cream wallpaper and white carpet is in his hands. There is a white end table on the right hand side against the wall with a small, white vase on top of the glass top and some pink roses inside. A mirror in a white frame is above it. The left wall is almost bare; the only item standing out is a black briefcase Tony recognized…Tony put his frustration towards Ziva aside, taking a few long strides towards her desk and flashing the photo in front of her, "Recognize that?"

She takes the photo quickly. Tony observes her as she glances over the picture; her face growing paler with every second she stares at the photo. Her gaze meets his, "This…" But before Ziva can say anything more, a familiar figure approaches them from the the elevator.

Tony's skin crawls at the sight of the man, the "internal affairs" officer from before. Gibbs was absent from his desk as he had been for the last hour and a half. They would have to deal with this themselves, "I'm here to continue my interview with Agent David." Tony exchanges glances with McGee, smirking.

"Yeah...you're going to have to reschedule," He gestures to the clock, "its past visiting hours. I suggest you come back in the morning." There was good reason to jump down the man's throat, the possibility that he was behind the lieutenants murder or the childs...but at this time it seemed illogical to do such a thing, unless he pushed it enough.

"Agent DiNozzo you must understand," He approaches Tony, clenching his briefcase, "this must be finished tonight. My boss is expecting the report tomorrow."

He chuckles, "I'm sure he is…" Tony doesn't speak loud, only muttering loud enough for himself to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"I insist Agent DiNozzo."

This man wasn't giving in...and Tony knew he wouldn't let up. But maybe he work this in his favor, "This way," He gestures towards the hallway, "I will escort you to the interrogation room. Agent David will be with you shortly."

Tony could see the man hesitate, but he nodded his head and headed towards the interrogation room without waiting for Tony. Which was perfect.

"McGee. Find Gibbs...quick," McGee follows directions, jumping up and running off, "Ziva. Find anything else that could link this phony to the family." She nods.

Thirty minutes later, Tony and Ziva were back in the room, watching Gibbs through the one way mirror. Neither spoke. It was like the Rifkin problem all over again. Awkward vibes after a fight.

"Internal affairs, huh?" Gibbs walks into the room, grasping the orange folder Tony had found earlier.

The man was on the other side of the room, staring at the wall. His head snaps up at the sound of Gibbs voice, "Where is Ms. David?"

"Have a seat." Gibbs ignored.

"This is outrageous," The man exclaims, taking a seat, "I demand to be allowed an interview with Ms. David."

"You are getting an interview," Gibbs replies, following the mans example and taking a seat. Tony smirks at the remark. It was amusing to watch Gibbs when he was interrogating someone. No matter who it was.

But his mind was torn.

While he was amused by Gibbs as he began his interrogation, his mind wasn't totally with it. And as if Ziva could read his mind, she spoke, "I am sorry." The mighty words. Not often spoken by Ziva. A little random. Tony couldn't look at her, but he listened, "I do not...want to hurt you." To the point as usual, and at times like this he was glad she was blunt, "I have told you that I care too much about our...friendship." Again she was using the friendship word. As she had in the past. As she had when Gibbs was in trouble, while they stood in the forest, "I do not want anything to happen to it." Tony still refused to look at her. But he had heard her, and he digested what she had said. Ziva looked at him, "I trust you, Tony."

And he knew she was telling the truth. Finally, he gazes at her, "I know. And if you're taking the blame for this," He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, "then so am I."

"YOU murdered the child," Gibbs slammed the picture in front of the man, "and then you came in here and dare blame one of MY officers?"

The man started to shake, shaking his head quickly for two seconds too long, "It was an accident…" Tony smiles.

Success.


End file.
